Ight.

Crash Tuesday
Recover Wednesday
Skate Thursday
Sore Friday
Prom Saturday
Chill Sunday

Weirdest week ever.

It's been almost two days

since I crashed. Yeah, it was a terrifying experience, blah blah blah.

You know what I hear today?

I hear people have been blaming Erin because I "had" to go over to her house and work things out, so I went home tired and crashed.

That's probably the most insane thing ever. It's my fault I crashed. I shouldn't have even gotten in that car. I should have stayed at her house, even if it was until 3 or 4. I didn't want her to be driving me, then driving home tired because well, what happened to me could have happened to her. Also, if you're going to blame her for me "having" to go down there, you can blame Jonathan, Jesus, and Mitchell just as well. I "had" to drive them home. If I hadn't, I could have left Erin's house earlier, and get home before I got so damn tired.

It pisses me off that people are looking for someone to blame, and just using my near-death experience as another way to point fingers. You should just be glad I'm still alive. I walked out of my car in one piece, and you're sitting there pointing fingers and stabbing each other in the back.

You should be ashamed of yourselves. You fucking assholes.

I was glad it happened to me, and just me. I wouldn't have wanted it to happen to anyone else. You people need to learn how to be less selfish. I wasn't even mad at anyone. What gives you, people who weren't in the accident, any right to be mad?

Seriously, just hearing that people are blaming Erin for this makes me so mad. I really hate that I care about you all, because I'm sure that if I died, you'd be too busy yelling at each other.

I hope you're fucking happy.

The scariest night of my life.

For those of you who don't know what happened to me, last night, I was coming home at 11:45 from Erin's house, and I fell asleep at the wheel. I woke up to the sound of my car veering off the road, and I see a pole. I try to swerve out of the way, but alas, I'm too late. The front right end of the car hits the pole, and my car flips. I take the pole out of the ground, and my car lands with the roof-side down.

"I'm going to die, I'm going to die," I thought. Then, a wave of instinct hits me. I don't recall any stupid show on how to survive car crashes, or any survival show at that. I just remember thinking, "I can't die, not tonight."

So, I unbuckle my seat belt, and try to open my door. No budge. I try to punch out the window, but it's too thick. So, I look around the car, and see that the impact from the crash was so hard that it blew out the entire back windshield. I crawled out of the back windshield, and stood up. I stood up. How, I don't know.

I stumbled away and surveyed the damage. My car is fucked. Paramedics, police, and some good Samaritans were there about five minutes after the crash. I get asked a bunch of questions, have a field sobriety test, and am given a blanket.

I can feel my body shaking. I'm coherent, I'm calm, and I know what's going on, but I'm shaking. My body was scared. My body. The policemen finally let me talk to my mom, and I tell her I'm okay, and that I love her. I ask to see Erin before I go, I tell her to give me a hug, and that I love her.

After that, I'm put in a neck brace, and placed on a stretcher. Until last night, I had never been in an ambulance. Not exactly the way I wanted to go. I get into an argument with one of the paramedics over the IV. I hate needles. Five minutes, and 3 inches of needle later, I'm at the hospital, and they yank the needle right out of my arm. When I'm pulled out of the ambulance, I'm immediately bombarded by questions which are easy to answer. Within the next twenty minutes, I'm given an ultrasound, have an X-Ray of my chest done, and I'm given a CT Scan. Then, they draw blood, screw up, and draw some more. Then, they cut up my favorite shirt, instead of just asking me to take it off. Fuckers. They make me pee in this tupperware type thing, and I think nothing of it. After, I'm hauled out of the room, and I get put in a visitors room. Mom comes in, things mellow out, and I stay up til 2. I crash, and wake up at 4, crash again, and wake up at 7.

Doctors have me eat food to see if my body responds well to it. No negative reactions. I'm okay. I flip my car over and almost die, but I walk out with just a few scratches? I've never seen a bigger miracle.

I went home after the most terrifying thing that's ever happened to me with just a few sore muscles, bruises, scratches, and glass shards.

I'll never understand how I made it out in once piece, much less alive.

I'm just glad to be here.

I realized something though. It's not how you think it would be. People say your whole life flashes before your eyes. It really doesn't. As for the crash, itself, I just remember seeing the pole, turning the wheel, and being thrown around my car violently. I almost don't believe it happened to me. It's almost unreal. I'll count my blessings though.

Someone up there saved my life last night. Whoever, or whatever, you are, thank you so much.

Damn.

I mean, really. At first, I thought it was:

1
2
3

But, apparently it was:

3 (yes!)
1
2

3 is a good number.

Another time around? Definitely.

Oh, and the only person who will get this doesn't even know I have this. Haha.

I Must Be Hateful

First off, I will start by saying I'm very blessed in many ways. I need not mention them because they aren't the focus of this blog.

I just can't help but feel that I'm unattractive, I can't sing, I'm slow, I'm short, I can't play the guitar, I'm a terrible skateboarder, I suck at being a friend, and I'm not a good boyfriend. No matter what I'm good at, or how blessed I am, there's someone who's better than me. I wish I was amazing. I'd like to know the feeling.

I'd like to meet the person who's completely blown away by who I am, and who will appreciate the little things I do.

But, it's not going to happen, and I'm asking for too much. I always ask for too much. I'm selfish.

I'm greedy.
I'm lustful.
I'm hateful.
I'm ungrateful.
I'm mean.
I'm superficial.
I'm perverted.
I'm gross.

You don't want me. I'm not good for you. For anyone.

One more because, well, I love this.

Sometimes, I miss my poems.
Sometimes, I don't understand how people can't see the simplicity of things.
Sometimes, I wish they did.
Sometimes, I wonder what keeps you around.
Sometimes, I wonder what keeps me around.
Sometimes, I think that I'm not worth your time.
Sometimes, I think you aren't worth mine.
Sometimes, you just don't get that things don't have to make sense.
Sometimes, you don't make sense.
And, sometimes, there's simplicity in chaos, a flower in a sea of thorns; and it will never make sense to you, but you'll never understand.
Sometimes, well, sometimes, being with the one we love isn't the most logical thing, but it's okay because we're at peace, and from then on, we know that nothing could ever be that bad.
Sometimes, all it is, is me loving you.

#1

I really wish you could see the simplicity in all the chaos. And, I know you'll never feel the way I wish you did. And, I feel sorry for #3. But, look at what he became as opposed to me. One of the reasons I was so afraid. The only thing is, I have more self-control. Maybe aggressive/assertive isn't the best after all. I'm ready. And, in the end, I'm so proud and glad to say that he's not like me, and vice-versa. Stick that in your pipe and suck it, Fish.

I really hate

When people can't take a joke and get angry. It bugs me because they aren't perfect either. Yeah, I joke a lot. Sometimes, people are having a bad day, and when those two things combine, it makes people mad. I get it. It happens, and it sucks. But, no one has a bad day everyday. So, please, don't be a dick when people mess around with you. I'm tired of these stupid highschool douchebags. I want summer, and I want it now. Forget highschool, forget the stupid girls that come with it, and screw all the jerks who ruin it. I just want summer.